


The Moon's Miniature Gem

by still_lycoris



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:58:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vila likes things that are pretty. Avon likes things that are valuable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moon's Miniature Gem

Vila liked the moon of Pylan the minute they teleported down to it.

It was so _pretty_. The rocks sparkled all around them, glimmering in the slightly translucent seeming light. The air smelt of something rather sweet, almost sugary. It was just nice.

Of course, Blake and Avon weren’t seeing it like that at all. They were moving around, setting up the equipment that would give Pylan the communications feed they had asked for. Vila sighed and handed them the tools they demanded and tried to sneak away to look at the sparkling rocks.

“They aren’t valuable, Vila,” Blake said cheerfully. “It’s just the way the rocks form here, there’s thousands of them all over the place. They catch the light nicely, that’s all.”

Vila picked up one of the rocks. It was more of a gemstone really, faceted and glowing with red lights when he moved it in the light. He picked up another which was more bluish, then a third one that was sort of purply and began to juggle them, enjoying the way they glittered. They were small but oh, so lovely.

“Vila, stop wasting time with that rubbish and do something useful,” Avon ordered and Vila resisted the urge to stick his tongue out like a child. Avon bought that out in him, sometimes. Why did Avon get to tell him what to do? He wasn’t in charge, he was just there, like the rest of them. They only worked together because they had to. _Blake_ was in charge.

But arguing with Avon was often a waste of breath and sometimes, it was just easier to go along with him. He put the stones in his pocket and Avon rolled his eyes.

“What are you _keeping_ them for? You heard Blake, they’re worthless.”

“They’re pretty,” Vila said obstinately. “I like pretty things. Don’t you like pretty things?”

“No,” Avon said. “I like things that are valuable – which is one of the reasons you bore me so. Come and hold this wire.”

Vila obeyed, half-hoping that the wire would be connected to a power source and he could “accidentally” shock Avon with it. It wasn’t which was probably for the best. He was still trying to figure Avon out really. If he hurt Avon, just how badly would Avon hurt him back? Was he all talk like some of his type? Or was he as cold as he seemed? 

Vila didn’t know. He _wanted_ to know … but he only wanted to find out very, very carefully.

Blake returned from sorting out his set of wires. He plugged in the power source and Avon switched the machine on and stepped back, letting Blake get on with speaking to the Pylans. Vila took the time to gather up a few more of the little rocks. Why not? His cabin in the _Liberator_ needed a little colour.

Of course, once he got them back there, he found most of them looked boring in the electronic light of day. The sparkles seemed faded, the edges more obvious, the colours duller. Vila found himself throwing most of them away, disappointed by the lack of lustre. In the end, he kept one of them, one of the smallest ones, a glimmer of sapphire blue that sparked no matter what way you turned it. It made him think of rich things, pleasant things and never failed to make him happy.

There wasn’t much else that made him happy, sometimes. It could be good on the _Liberator_. Could even be fun, when people were in the right moods. He even got to like Avon, in a kind of way. He could be fun when he wanted to be – which admittedly, wasn’t often but when it was, Vila generally found it pleasant enough. 

He liked Blake too, missed him when he was gone. Blake had always been getting them into trouble but he’d always been a reassuring presence somehow. Always made Vila feel safe, at least when they were on the _Liberator_. He’d known that Blake would let him stick with them – even felt like Blake valued him, liked him.

It wasn’t like that now. Tarrant clearly thought he was an idiot, a waste of space and air. Avon had always thought he was an idiot, even when he was in a good mood. And he and Tarrant were going to be fighting for position all the time and Vila would just be there, wouldn’t he, just be in the way … maybe Cally would protect him but he’d seen the bursts of callousness she had when she was fighting, even she might decide … and there was no hope with Dayna, she might like him but she didn’t think he was _useful_. No, they didn’t want him, probably didn’t need him and he was scared.

He should have stayed with Kerril. Maybe they would have made interesting things to steal. Or found something he could do instead. He shouldn’t have been so quick. If only Bayban hadn’t attacked, maybe he’d have thought better of it, stayed with someone who loved him instead of here with people who didn’t even like him – 

Someone knocked on the cabin door. After a moment, Vila answered it, rather confused. Nobody ever came to his cabin (much as he hoped one of the women might one day choose to)

It wasn’t one of the women. It was Avon, arms folded, staring at him in that uncomfortable way that made Vila feel he was being picked through. He tried not to fidget and hoped he didn’t look like he might have been crying.

“It’s not my shift!” he said defensively. “Not for hours yet, you can’t go telling me that I haven’t done enough work already today, I got held hostage you know, you _saw_ Bayban, I bet you’ve never read the stories about him but I have, I was in real danger you know – ”

“Vila,” Avon drawled, interrupting easily. “If you _must_ ramble, you could at least have the good manners to let me into your cabin while you do it.”

“Um,” Vila said and uneasily stepped aside, not at all sure that he _wanted_ Avon in his cabin. Avon walked in and looked around, raising his eyebrows at the objects strewn around the place.

“You are a little magpie aren’t you? What’s that pink stuff?”

“It’s silk,” Vila said sullenly. “I picked it up on Dulton 4. It’s quite expensive, you know. And it’s nicer than all that grey.”

“And these?”

“Oh, I got them on Atlal. You didn’t go down to Atlal, did you? You can make music with them, see? When you blow into them?”

“Did they give you to them on Atlal or did you steal them?” Avon sounded amused so Vila allowed himself to just grin in response, knowing Avon would understand it. Avon gave him that twisted-lip smile that he sometimes gave and walked to Vila’s bedside table, picking up the miniature gemstone that Vila kept there.

“Wasn’t this from that moon we visited? You _kept_ this?”

“It’s _pretty_ ,” Vila snapped, resisting the urge to snatch it from Avon’s fingers. “I like pretty things, or had you not noticed?”

“Oh, I noticed,” Avon said, putting the gemstone down. He turned and stared at Vila keenly, eyes slightly narrowed. “As I told you, I do not like things because they are pretty. I like them because they are valuable.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Vila said, wondering why Avon was telling him this now. Avon gave a soft sigh.

“You remember but you don’t understand, do you?” he said. “I repeat, I like – and therefore _keep_ \- things that are valuable to me.”

Vila stared at him. It wasn't exactly that he didn’t understand now, he just … couldn’t quite believe that Avon had come in and tried to say something reassuring. He also wasn’t quite sure that it _was_ entirely reassuring.

“So if we’re not valuable, you’ll … chuck me out of an airlock?” he offered.

Avon’s lips quirked.

“Most likely,” he said but as he said it, he reached out, touched Vila’s shoulder. “But I am sure that I will grow tired of Tarrant long before I grow tired of you.”

Vila laughed at that and for a moment, Avon’s smile seemed more real than it ever had before. His fingers lingered on Vila’s shoulder, warm and almost pleasant. Vila suddenly felt very embarrassed by the whole thing and cast around for something to break the tension that he was probably imagining.

Avon did it for him.

“Vila. Is that _my_ V16 probe?”

“Um. No?”

Avon clearly suspected that he was lying. Probably because Vila was. He took the probe away and left behind numerous threats about what he would do if Vila stole any of his belongings again, threats that Vila cheerfully filed under “only if they catch me” in his mind. Truth be told, he didn’t mind what Avon said right now. He was happier than he’d been since they’d lost Blake.

Avon had cared enough to come and try to reassure him. Even if it had been in his own, weird, Avon way. Avon had _cared_.

That was good enough for Vila.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the b7friday challenge Title-o-tron


End file.
